


Jailbreak

by CR Noble (erudite12)



Series: I Fought the Law [6]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Detective!AU, F/M, Hunter!Reader, detective!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble
Summary: Inspired by the song Jailbreak by Thin LizzyRelationship: Dean x ReaderWarnings: Incarceration, general fuckery, language (as usual)Word Count: 1.6KA/N: I know most of you have probably forgotten about this series, but I think it is time for a little revival! So, I really hope you guys are willing to forgive the fact that it has been months since the last update for this series!! Please enjoy. Feedback is always welcome!





	Jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Jailbreak by Thin Lizzy
> 
> Relationship: Dean x Reader
> 
> Warnings: Incarceration, general fuckery, language (as usual)
> 
> Word Count: 1.6K
> 
> A/N: I know most of you have probably forgotten about this series, but I think it is time for a little revival! So, I really hope you guys are willing to forgive the fact that it has been months since the last update for this series!! Please enjoy. Feedback is always welcome!

  


It didn’t surprise you that Detective Smith wanted you taken immediately to a high security detention facility. You knew your record of escaping custody at least as well as he did, and it was a move that made sense. It really put  a monkey wrench into your night, and severely limited your choices for escape.

 

It was hard to think with Dean staring at you from the other side of the transport van. You wore shackles around your ankles that were secured to the floor and to the cuffs around your wrists by a chain. It was a little tight and it made it difficult to comfortably turn away from the coldness in Dean’s expressionless face, or move at all really. You supposed that was the point. The ride to Topeka only took about an hour, but it felt much longer. It wouldn’t be so bad if he would at least say something, but Dean had maintained complete silence since Sam left the interrogation room. A little voice in the back of your mind said you should have told him the truth while you had the chance.

 

When you arrived inside the gates of the prison, Dean silently released your shackles from the floor of the transport van and led you to the back door, keeping his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the roof. He exchanged a few words with the guards as he handed you off to them, but still didn’t speak to you. Why did you care? You brushed it off and walked between the guards as they led you to the door of the prison. 

 

They started processing you immediately, as you were the only inbound prisoner at this time of night. You couldn’t be sure of how long the process actually took because you didn’t have a watch, and there wasn’t a clock anywhere in your field of vision. Finally, after being fingerprinted, having a full body search and medical exam, and answering some pointless questions about whether you had gang affiliations, you were led to a cell. It was supposed to house two prisoners, but it looked like you would be blissfully alone for the night. 

 

“Breakfast at six.” the guard said as she shut the cell door. 

 

You examined the solid steel door, which was at least six inches thick with a plexiglass window. You’d have sold your soul then and there for iron bars and a pickable lock. You looked around the dark cell for anything that might be of use. As expected, it was pretty barren; bunk beds against one wall, and a toilet and sink in a corner. Nothing you could use to get out of here.

 

You sat on the edge of the lower bunk, and thought through your limited options. Crowley would be able to get you out, and he might not take your soul to do it. Of course, it would be hard to get in touch with him. You no longer had your cell phone, and had no way of acquiring all of the ingredients that would be needed to summon the King of Hell, or any other kind of magic.

 

With no Crowley, and no magic, you had only one option left, and you weren’t even sure it would work. After all, the last time you saw this particular option, you tried to kill him. Any chance at all was better than none, and it wasn’t like you had a choice. You groaned audibly, closed your eyes and concentrated on him.

 

“Alright, you irritating, feathery asshole,” you prayed, “I know we aren’t on the best of terms, but I could really use some divine intervention right about now.” 

 

You kept your eyes closed tightly, sure that when you opened them, you would still be alone in the cell. You heard the whoosh of flapping wings, and felt a slight gust of wind across your face.

 

“I didn’t think you were gonna show,” you said, opening your eyes. You knew he was there, but you didn’t see him.

 

Suddenly, a blonde head popped out over the edge of the top bunk, and honey eyes peered down at you above half a smile.

 

“You mean because one time you tried to kill me?” Gabriel asked. He snapped his fingers and was suddenly sitting next to you on the bottom bunk. He bumped you with his shoulder. “You’re not the first, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last. Water under the bridge, sweet cheeks.” He looked around the cell. “Well, things are not going well for you, are they?”

 

“Is it that obvious?” You asked wryly as he unwrapped a hard candy and tossed it into his mouth.

 

“You called me.” There was a long pause. “Well, throw me the pitch, sugar lips.”

 

“I need you to get me out of here. And I need my car and my guns.” You ignored his idiotic nicknames and kept it simple. You knew he’d already made up his mind, even if he wasn’t above trying to make you beg for his help.

 

“You weren’t kidding about divine intervention.” Gabriel whistled. “All right, but I want to tag along.”

 

You knew he was going to want something in return for his help, and Gabriel was usually pretty creative. So you were visibly shocked by the simple request.

 

“That’s it?” you asked, before you could stop yourself.

 

“I’m bored, Y/N,” he said, “I haven’t seen any decent action since… well, since you tried to kill me.”

 

You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, and even though you were sure you would regret it, you agreed. You were definitely desperate to get out of this place.

 

“Perfect,” Gabriel said and snapped his fingers.

 

You hated it when he did that, especially with no warning. The cool breeze against your face wasn’t enough to keep you from vomiting. When you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach onto the asphalt, you looked around. You were standing twenty feet away from a soda machine at a small motel. There were a couple of cars in the parking lot, but fortunately no one was outside to witness your illness. You were still wearing the gray uniform with the words “Topeka Correctional Facility” stamped boldly on the back of the shirt.

 

“Shit,” you whispered. You should have asked Gabriel for a change of clothes, too. The thought made you look around again. Where was Gabriel? Your car wasn’t here, either. “Shit.” You ducked into the shadows to wait. You didn’t want anyone to see you in a prison uniform.

 

Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait long. A few seconds later, a bright light flashed in the parking lot, and Gabriel stood leaning against your car. Relief and excitement flowed through you as you dashed out into the parking lot. You brushed your fingers across the smooth red paint, only just realizing how much you missed the car.

 

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at Gabriel.

 

“I always try to please the ladies in my life.” The wink the statement was punctuated with did nothing to mediate his suggestive tone of voice. 

 

“Do you think you could maybe do something about these?” You gestured at the gray shirt and pants you still wore.

 

“You got it, Gumdrop!” Gabriel smiled and snapped his fingers.

 

The prison gray was gone, but the sleeveless black mini-dress that clung to your body wasn’t much better. At least Gabriel had put you in a pair of sensible ballet flats. You took a deep breath, trying to contain your annoyance.

 

“You want me to kill werewolves in this?” You asked, somehow managing to keep your tone under control.

 

“What, you can’t be hot while you kill monsters?” Gabriel asked, waving a hand at you dismissively. 

 

“Can you just give me a pair of pants, Gabe?” you pled.

 

“You should have been more specific.” He smiled at you and shook his head.

 

You were starting to remember why you tried to kill him last time you saw him. He never took anything seriously, and he was always playing some kind of game with you. It was infuriating. You knew he wasn’t going to change his mind. This was his way of punishing you for not choosing your words more carefully. The fact that you should know better by now did not make it less irritating, and while you knew you should really hold up your end of the bargain, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to look at Gabriel’s stupid, smug face for however long he wanted to stick around.

 

“Whatever,” you said, “let’s just go.” You walked over to the car, pulling the hem of the skirt down lower. You quickly got in the driver’s side and slammed the door before reaching between the seat and the center console to pull out a small pocket knife you stashed there. Surprisingly, Gabriel got in the car like a normal person, whistling all the while, and it gave you the time you needed.

 

“So,” he said, turning toward you, “where are we off to?”

 

“Sorry about this, Gabriel,” you said, as you turned your arm toward him, and slammed your already bloody palm against the angel banishment sigil that was tattooed there. You turned your head and squinted as he disappeared in a beam of bright white light. He was going to be pissed next time you saw each other.

 

You dug a bandana out of the glove box and wrapped it around your palm and took a moment to punch the old farmhouse’s address into the GPS before you turned the key in the ignition. As soon as the car rumbled into life, you backed out of the parking spot Gabriel had dropped it in, and sped toward your destination.


End file.
